"No man hath greater love..."

She was confident they would not overtake her.

Approx. 2,308 words

“No man hath greater love…”

Racing through the deserted and darkened streets, Susan could hear the security forces not far behind. Their heavy boots crunched in the street, their swords and other accoutrements jingled as they ran. She glanced over her shoulder before turning into the next alley. They were at least one hundred meters behind her. She was confident they would not overtake her, but that was not in the plan. She feigned a fall and then pulled her knee up to her chest and grasped her ankle.

There was no pain, so she tried to simulate intense pain as best she could, while struggling to make her escape on hands and knees. In a few seconds six men closed on her and jerked her to her feet.

“And just where do you think you’re going, missy? What have you been doing, where were you going? Don’t claim you don’t know about the curfew! All citizens must remain indoors after dark! There are no exceptions and no excuses!”

“Let her alone, Campbell. Can’t you see she’s hurt? She can’t cause us any harm. Search her for weapons and we’ll take her back to headquarters.”

“Let me search her, Sarge,” a young corporal said. “I’ll be extra thorough, you can depend on me.”

“Shut up, Jensen,” the sergeant hissed. “Campbell caught her and he’ll search her. Take Dickens, Hoyt and Tompkins and head up the street at least fifty meters. We can’t be sure this little vixen wasn’t trying to draw us into an ambush and we need to get some security out.”

Disappointment showed in Jensen’s face but he was quick to accept the sergeant’s orders. “Alright, men, you heard the man. Eyes open and weapons off safe. If it moves, shoot it!” The four men split up and moved out in two directions.

“She’s clean, Sarge. What do I do with her now?”

“Cuff her, of course! As soon as Jensen and the rest return, we’ll take her to headquarters and let the S-2 interrogate her.”

“Why are the officer’s always the lucky ones?” Campbell asked.

“Cause they’re the ones who make the rules, dummy.” Sergeant Bradford tried to keep his eyes moving in all directions. The rebels might try sneaking up behind them, from the direction they had just come while chasing the woman, or they might be ahead of them, or down the alley to the left. Damn! Bradford hated cities and towns! He wished he were back out in the forest. Sure, the rebels could just as easily hide behind a tree, but the same trees could protect Bradford and his men with a moments notice. Garrison duty was the pits!

“All clear, Sarge,” Corporal Jensen called as soon as he returned. “If there were any rebels here, they’ve scuttled down the nearest rat hole—right where they belong.”

“Don’t get over confident, Jensen. There may still be one or two on the rooftops. Take the point. Back to HQ. I’ll be right behind you with the girl. Campbell, you and the others watch our backs.”

The squad moved out, keeping to the center of the darkened street, knowing they would be easy targets for any sniper lurking in the shadowed doorways or concealed behind a window, but what else could they do? The trek to HQ was only eight blocks, perhaps two klicks, yet swift and deadly action might confront them at any moment for the security forces had only moved into this town yesterday. There were at least eighteen hundred local residents, a third of which were probably rebel sympathizers and a hundred or more could be die-hard rebels who would fight to the death.

Three times along the route Jensen was challenged by a sentry. Bradford hoped they didn’t have itchy trigger fingers, but you could never be certain. The colonel had brought in two infantry companies to secure his headquarters and the battalion supply and support units had concentrated in the center of the town and were also manning security posts. Bradford certainly didn’t want his troops to come under fire from the rear echelon types not accustomed to combat.

They were challenged one final time by a professional looking pair of Military Police as they approached the building requisitioned as the battalion command post. “You can send your men to the warm-up tent, Sergeant,” the MP in charge said. “There’s coffee and sandwiches available. Make sure they unload their weapons first. We don’t want anyone getting shot accidentally. You and the corporal can take the prisoner to Major Fields. He’s on the first floor at the rear of the building. Report to Sergeant Murdock.”

Bradford pulled the mag from his assault rifle and then cleared the chamber. He double-checked his men while they followed suit, and told Jensen to take them to the tent for coffee. He and Campbell led the woman up the steps of the former city hall and found their way to the Intelligence Officer’s office at the rear.

“These rebel women get better looking every time I see one,” Sergeant Murdock said. Murdock was barely five-six and portly, too much desk work, Bradford thought. A good soldier would be out in the field working off some of that flab.

“You’ve been away from Center too long, Murdock,” Bradford told him. “Being away from home and family is never easy.”

“But she’s a real looker, Bradford. I hope the major let’s me give her a little private interrogation down in the basement.”

“Perhaps my men and I should hang around, just to make sure the prisoner is properly treated,” Bradford said.

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice behind them boomed as Major Warren entered the office. “Curfew violation, hmm?” He looked over the prisoner report Bradford had begun to fill out. “No name?”

“I haven’t gotten that far, sir.”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant. My men will take over from here. We know how to deal with both rebels and prisoners. You may leave now.”

Bradford had no choice; he knew when he was being dismissed. He gave a curt salute and motioned Campbell to follow him as they left the office.

“Do you think that was a good idea, Sarge?” Campbell whispered to him as they left the front of the building and headed for the warm-up tent.

“I don’t get paid to think, Campbell. I just do as I’m told. Let’s collect the others and get back on patrol.”

* * *

When dawn broke on the third day after the security forces had occupied the town, Susan had been undergoing interrogation for nine hours, yet she had revealed nothing.

“You make it most difficult for me to do my job, miss,” Major Warren said. “I’m in the business of collecting information, and I’m very good at what I do. You’ve steadfastly refused to answer my questions, despite a little encouragement from Sergeant Murdock’s baton. Don’t worry, I doubt those marks on your face and shoulders will be permanent, but you force me to use other means.

“I don’t have time to wear you down with sleep deprivation and psychological techniques. We’ll begin with some of the oldest techniques. I’m sure you’ll be happy to talk when we begin with the thumb screws. If not, we can move on to electro-shock… most distressing, I’m told. If I still don’t get the answers I want, there are several pharmaceuticals at my disposal, although they sometimes leave the brain permanently damaged. I hope you won’t force me to resort to the, umm, more severe techniques.”

“Do what you will,” Susan said. She had immediately disliked this oily looking man. His voice might be smooth and soft, but she knew his heart was as cold as a reptiles. Certainly, she would never survive his interrogation, so why permit him his little victories?

“Yes, I most certainly will, young lady, but I’ve been up throughout the night and haven’t yet had my breakfast. I can’t do my best work on an empty stomach, so I’ll leave you here for awhile. While I’m gone, please do give some thought to sparing yourself from the worst, and cooperate with us willingly.”

“In a pig’s eye!” Susan shouted. She would have liked to spit in his eye, if only for the dramatic effect, but she couldn’t.

Major Warren left the interrogation room. He had long ago learned that planting the seeds of what might be ahead and letting the prisoner turn that information over and over in the mind, was an exquisite form of torture. He would indeed have breakfast, and then return to question the woman. He was just collecting his hat and coat when Colonel Ashley entered his office.

“Morning, Jack, I hear you have a prisoner.” The colonel was not inquiring, merely stating a fact. “I need to know ASAP where the rebel forces are assembling.”

In the adjoining room, Susan heard the colonel’s voice and knew one of her targets lay within the kill zone. She strained to hear more.

“Yes, sir, but I’ve only begun the interrogation. Have you had your breakfast yet? Let’s go to the mess and have something to eat.”

“I ate hours ago, Jack, been up most of the night, visiting my companies on the perimeter. I always find it a good example to have a meal with the troops. Good for morale, you know? Take care of the men and they’ll take care of us.”

“Yes, sir, I agree.” Jack Warren lowered his voice, he didn’t want the prisoner to hear, and he wanted to get the colonel out of the office. “Actually, I’ve just begun a little psychological conditioning of the prisoner, sir. I think she’ll be ready for questioning in about half an hour. We have to give her a little time to think about her alternatives.”

“I don’t have time, Jack. We know there were a hundred rebels here just two days ago, maybe more. I want to know where they’ve gone, and I want to get after them now! We’ve got to keep up the pressure, don’t let them reorganize and put up a strong front. I’ve got nine hundred men located in the city, that’s eighty percent of our total forces! I want to get them moving immediately. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Major Warren capitulated. Perhaps he wouldn’t have time for the more subtle techniques. He decided he would begin by seeing how much pain the prisoner would tolerate. The old cigar-tip technique was effective.

In the interrogation room, Susan had no trouble over hearing the blustery colonel. Tactically, the moment was perfect. The commander was within the kill zone, and so were eighty percent of all security troops. Victory could be theirs in one small stroke, but had the locals all had time to get away?

Susan considered her alternatives. Immediate victory, even if it meant killing civilians? Or, should she wait until she could be certain the civilians had been able to evacuate the area? If she waited, the commander and a large portion of his troops might slip away. She would not be able to pursue them if she were still held captive. Her mission would result in failure. If she failed, hundreds of civilians would be killed needlessly anyway.

The evacuation was supposed to have begun forty-eight hours ago… certainly the residents would be beyond the blast zone? Unless they chose not to flee, unless they decided to welcome the security forces, even collaborate with them. Susan made her decision.

She reached deep down into her thought processes and called forth a routine. Tiny servo-motors regulating her nuclear power-pack began withdrawing cadmium damper rods, allowing the rate of fission to increase exponentially. In less than eight seconds, the time a rodeo cowboy spends on a bull if he’s lucky, the micro-reactor powering the android called Susan reached the critical point. The resulting blast vaporized buildings within a thousand meters of ground zero. The shockwave destroyed buildings within a three thousand meter radius and the nuclear fireball ignited fires within five kilometers. Susan was unaware of these facts… her steel and synthetic flesh had vaporized in the first micro-second.

* * *

“That’s the signal, Captain,” Jimmy Drake said, shielding his eyes from the intense fireball twenty kilometers away. “Do you suppose the robot was successful?”

“There’s only one way to find out, Jimmy, split our tactical forces into four elements and have them surround what’s left of the city. Warn them not to enter the zone of elevated radiation. If there are any security forces still living, let them come to us.”

“Yes, sir,” the rebel lieutenant said and hurried away to pass the word.

Alone with his thoughts, Rich Kelsey evaluated his position. The decision to build the SAN, Strategic Automaton (Nuclear), was necessary if they intended to deliver the weapon to the target, a massive concentration of enemy forces. As commander of the rebel troops, he was aware he could not continue hit and run tactics indefinitely. Each engagement resulted in a few, irreplaceable casualties. He had to bring this conflict to an end before the rebels still had the ability to wage war.

His study of military history provided the plan, and SAN was built for this mission. Rich had added Secret and Ultimate to the designation of the SAN android, and SUSAN was born.

One day, perhaps when this colony became strong and could afford the time to celebrate its fiery birth as the oppressive security forces were destroyed, one day he would see that a monument was constructed to honor SUSAN. She was only a synthetic person, thinking with electrons flashing between semiconductors on a silicon chip, but she had known what her mission was, and what the result would be. SUSAN gave her life for the birth of a new nation. It was only appropriate the nation should honor her.